


How I Love Thee

by EmerySaks7



Category: The Music Man
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:23:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/pseuds/EmerySaks7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the birth of their first child draws near, Harold Hill reflects on the events that led to Marian's current condition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Take My Eyes Off You

_September 1914_

Harold Hill breathed deeply, inhaling the soothing fragrance of pine as the logs in the fireplace crackled and burned. It was a cool September evening, and the sound of rain pattering against the windowpanes echoed quietly throughout the parlor.

The promise of rain had caused the music professor to head home earlier than usual, and as the chill in the air settled throughout the house, he was glad of his decision. Marian, now six months with child, had eagerly nestled against him on their sofa after their evening meal and commenced reading while he diligently studied scores for the band's upcoming October performance.

Never one to voluntarily slow down, Harold reflected that it had been an unusually busy time at the Emporium in recent weeks, and the music professor, usually full of energy and zest, found himself lagging a bit. Although he would never voice the thought aloud, he was quite grateful for the evening's slower pace as it allowed him a few moments to catch his breath. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he reflected that in just a few short months' time, quiet evenings like tonight would become treasured moments, indeed. Not for the first time, Harold wondered what changes were in store for his and Marian's well-ordered household when their baby finally arrived.

A soft sigh interrupted his thoughts and he turned his head, ready to offer his wife any assistance she might require. But Marian didn't appear to be in discomfort or need. Instead, she closed her book and laid it on the nearby table.

"I have a few things I need to attend to upstairs, and then I think it's time I retired for the evening, darling. My poor feet are telling me I did too much today," Marian confessed with a rueful smile.

Harold lowered the scores in his hand. "Let me put these away, and I'll escort you," he offered, concern crinkling the corners of his eyes.

But Marian wouldn't hear of it. "I can manage just fine, Harold," she assured him, affection creeping into her tone. "I'm rotund, but I can still make my way up and down the stairs." She paused and craned her head to glance at her feet. "At least, I can for a few more weeks."

Smiling in return, Harold placed the scores on the cushion and helped his wife up from the couch. When she stood before him, he grinned, feeling her rounded belly softly bump against his own flat stomach. Harold easily stood a head taller than Marian when she didn't have her shoes on, so he obligingly leaned down and placed a soft kiss against her forehead before asking, "Are you certain you don't need my help? It's no trouble."

Marian's eyes found his and she smiled. "I'm certain, darling," she promised before lifting her lips and capturing his mouth in a gentle, reassuring kiss. They stayed that way for a few minutes, simply enjoying the quiet affirmation of their love for one another. When Marian finally pulled away, her eyes were shining.

Satisfied by his wife's assurances, Harold watched with fond affection as Marian slowly navigated her way up the stairs and disappeared around the corner. She was lovely, especially in the flush of pregnancy. Once again, Harold wished he'd been able to make love to her when they awoke that morning, but unfortunately, Marian had been feeling a bit unwell, so he'd curtailed those desires. But they'd been lurking in the back of his thoughts all day, and he'd even had to sternly admonish his errant emotions once or twice during his work at the Emporium – not to mention disappear into his office until the physical signs of his discomfort had subsided.

The music professor would've made love to Marian upon his arrival home, but she had been in the middle of cooking a scrumptious dinner – one that caused Harold's stomach to rumble and remind him of the lunch he'd missed. After that, the musical scores had glared accusingly at him from his briefcase, and so he'd dutifully returned to them when they retired to the parlor.

But now, as his ears picked up Marian's distinct footfalls, he wished he'd foregone obligation and indulged in the fantasies he'd harbored all day. Several of those fantasies had centered around a particular trip he and Marian had taken earlier in the year, shortly after the birth of Ethel and Marcellus Washburn's daughter.

XXX

_February 1914_

Although Harold Hill would never openly admit it, he had spent many a night before his wedding, wide awake, his mind teeming with apprehensions that Marian Paroo might not find the physical side of marriage as appealing as he hoped.

But much to Marian's apparent delight – and Harold's delighted relief – their marriage bed was a source of constant joy. After ironing out their initial misunderstandings regarding an unexpected and unwelcome reminder of his checkered past, bride and groom spent the better of their honeymoon entwined in one another's arms, experimenting and learning. Harold took pleasure in discovering exactly how Marian liked to be touched… what words inflamed her passions and how he could fan those flames with kisses and caresses. In return, Marian primly, but honestly, reciprocated the gesture, offering herself to him without restraint, oftentimes blushing furiously as she did so. Harold knew it would be some time before his darling wife would dare to be as vocal with him as he was with her, but he didn't mind. It would happen naturally, and in the meantime, he would happily whisper heated words into her ear as they made love. Harold Hill had no qualms about expressing his desire for Marian Paroo Hill.

However, coming back to River City was a different story. Although they spent the better part of their honeymoon exercising the privileges of marriage – with little thought of repercussions – Harold quickly realized that heedless pleasure was a luxury they could no longer afford.

It had been no small feat to approach Marian in conversation. Although Harold wanted nothing more than to start a family with his darling librarian, the music professor felt it best that he and Marian have time to adjust to being husband and wife. He also wanted to enjoy the passionate side of their relationship before dedicating the time raising a child would inevitably require.

But the idea of utilizing prophylactics bothered him, too. Not that he was a stranger to the devices. On the contrary – in his former line of work, the reformed conman had come to depend on the handy little items. They were crucial to avoiding some of the pesky afflictions city women sometimes passed along, and a downright necessity for preventing unwanted offspring with any of the maidens he seduced from time to time. But to use such things with his wife reminded him far too much of his former life, and he had a feeling it wouldn't sit well with Marian, either. Although the music professor knew he could always discreetly pull away just before the final moment, this idea frustrated him, too. After patiently waiting to enjoy the fruits of marriage, Harold longed to fully experience lovemaking with his passionate bride.

But after a long and sometimes awkward conversation regarding the future of their family, they decided it would be prudent to practice preventive measures for the time being. However, being quite in love, there were moments when the music professor and librarian got carried away and didn't practice caution. And the longer they were married, the less scrupulous they became regarding such matters - especially after they spent an evening cooing over little Sarah Jeanne Washburn, who was born to Marcellus and Ethel Washburn in January. So after nearly two years of marriage and increasing moments of spontaneity, they relaxed and decided to let nature take its course.

While Harold was well aware that not every woman conceived at the drop of a hat, even when they _weren't_ trying to prevent it,he knew that deep down, neither he nor the librarian wanted to celebrate another wedding anniversary without even the faintest hint of a baby on the horizon. And what better way to help things along than to take a second honeymoon?

However, although Harold had always been gifted with a silver tongue, he found himself at a loss when it came to selling Marian on the idea. A frugal woman in both domestic and business matters, she was not likely to agree to such an extravagance so early in their marriage. But Harold knew that a little time away from River City and their hectic schedules would do them a world of good if they were to make any real progress toward becoming parents. Trying to convince his wife of the necessity of a trip without raising her suspicions as to his intentions eluded him. Harold remained stumped until he received a letter from Ames, Iowa. Tearing into the envelope, he quickly scanned the letter, a grin spreading across his visage. Once again, music had provided him a solution with which to effectively approach his lovely librarian.

In early January, once the holiday festivities had concluded and life in River City resumed its usual routine, Harold had set about taking stock of his inventory. Quickly realizing the need for a viable replacement for the now-threadbare and faded boys' uniforms, Harold sent out feelers to various contacts at the beginning of January. And now, here in his hands was a response from Jaffrey C. Lewis, the director of bands at Iowa State University, inviting the inventor of the Think System to stop by in early March.

Harold chuckled. It was the perfect solution. He could honestly inform Marian of his intentions to travel to Ames to converse with Mr. Lewis and then convince her to spend a few days with him in nearby Des Moines. Harold had wanted to take Marian back to the city for quite some time, and hopefully, this time, they wouldn't have to contend with snow and could traverse the city free of hassle. Marian would enjoy perusing the library at Iowa State, and Harold was certain they would also end up spending at least one afternoon in Des Moines' mammoth repository of knowledge.

Whistling happily to himself, Harold tucked the letter inside his coat pocket, and went upstairs to inform Marian of their pending trip.

XXX

_March 1914_

As the music professor hoped, Marian thoroughly enjoyed their visit to Iowa State. The train ride to the university afforded them a few private and heated moments that left both of them grinning at each other once they departed the freight depot and made their way to their lodgings for the evening. While Harold discussed distribution possibilities with Mr. Lewis, Marian happily whiled away her day at the university's library and then joined the Harold and the Lewises for dinner at a restaurant near the campus.

The following day, husband and wife departed for Des Moines. When Marian learned they would once again lodge at the Hotel Randolph, she slipped her arm through Harold's and gave him a beaming smile. Her delight turned to desire when she realized he had managed to secure the same room in which they'd spent their honeymoon. Although the music professor had thought to treat his wife to a fine meal and take a stroll through the city streets, she had other ideas, and Harold spent the remainder of the evening and better part of the next morning happily entwined in her appreciative embrace.

Their second evening there, Harold thought to surprise Marian with something a bit different. After a pleasant dinner near their hotel, he grinned at his wife and, tucking her arm through his, escorted her across town until they stood before a large two-story theater on 13th Street, its sparkling marquee proudly proclaiming _The Majestic_.

It warmed his heart to see Marian's light up with excitement as she realized just where they were.

"A moving picture, Harold?" she asked, delight coloring her words.

Harold nodded and beamed at his wife. Quite familiar with nickelodeons from his extensive travels, the music professor had sorely missed this avenue of entertainment. Although River City had recently flirted with the idea of opening its own motion picture house, Harold knew it would still be a few years before he and Marian could regularly indulge. So when he'd learned Des Moines had a theater of its own, he'd set about arranging this pleasant little outing with his wife.

Harold grinned. "Well, I thought it might a novel experience for us, Madam Librarian. Are you game?"

Marian, who had never before seen a moving picture, flashed him a dazzling smile. After parting with a dime for their admission tickets to Tillie's Punctured Romance, Harold tucked Marian's arm through his and escorted her to the lower level of the building, securing two seats in the middle of the theater floor. The buzz of the crowd made it difficult to hear one another, so Harold contented himself with simply watching his wife as her gaze roamed around the theater, taking in the sights and sounds. Marian's wonder and delight were evident, and he silently congratulated himself on coming up with the wonderful idea of bringing her here.

When the lights dimmed and the large velvet curtain lifted to reveal the screen, Harold settled back in his seat and relaxed, eager to see this new Chaplin fellow he'd read about in the paper. But his attention soon shifted from the antics on the screen to the lovely librarian sitting beside him. Marian's soft laughter and shocked gasps captivated him far better than Mabel Normand or Charlie Chaplin ever could. His darling wife was completely engrossed in the film, her eyes trained on the screen, squinting slightly as each new card appeared. Harold chuckled and made a mental note to remind Marian to bring her spectacles the next time they visited a film house.

As Harold continued to watch his wife, he was struck by a mischievous thought. Although the well-bred librarian wouldn't be familiar with the reputations many of these theaters carried, Harold was well aware of the opportunities for canoodling that these darkened rooms afforded. It'd be a shame if he didn't at least attempt to introduce Marian to all aspects of the film experience. Of course, he wouldn't go too far, but surely, he could get away with a few innocent caresses.

Adjusting his lean frame in the theater seat, Harold shifted until his foot _accidentally_ nudged his wife's shoe. From the corner of his eye, Harold saw Marian cast a suspicious glance his way, but the consummate salesman continued to steadily watch the screen. Seemingly satisfied that the contact had been an innocent gesture and nothing more, Marian returned her gaze to the film.

Harold allowed a few minutes to pass before he slipped his hand to Marian's knee and boldly traced it along her upper thigh. He chuckled when he felt her leg jerk beneath his touch, her hand firmly clamping over his before pointedly removing it from her person and giving him a severe and highly scandalized look that Harold could plainly see even in the dim theater.

Although he couldn't quite contain the chuckle that escaped his grinning countenance, Harold did his best to affect a note of sincere apology when he leaned over and brushed his lips against Marian's ear.

"I'm sorry, darling. I simply couldn't resist the temptation," he purred in a low voice, his breath lifting the stray tendrils of hair that had escaped her chignon. His lips pressed a soft kiss against the sensitive spot behind her earlobe and he smiled against her skin when he heard her sharp intake of breath. "I promise to make it up to you later," he whispered and then sat back, his eyes once again focused on the film, even when Marian gave his hand a surreptitious squeeze.

But Harold should have known better than to be fooled by her seeming acquiescence to his teasing apology. Although the prim librarian was a stickler for rules, there were times her competitive nature surfaced and she temporarily set rules aside in favor of retaliation.

When Harold felt a warm foot seductively trail along the fabric of his pants, he jumped in his seat and let out a surprised yelp, garnering some harsh "shhhs" from nearby patrons as well as a stern glare from the woman seated in front of him.

Mumbling whispered apologies to those he disturbed, Harold resettled himself in his chair. He swore he heard his wife laughing softly, but when he turned to gaze at Marian, her attention was fixed wholly upon the screen. He shrugged, willing to dismiss the moment as a phantom of his imagination. But when he felt a warm, stocking-clad foot slide underneath the hem of his pants and begin rubbing suggestively against his leg, he knew Marian was intentionally toying with him; however, Harold was a man who had mastered the art of flirtation long ago. As such, he kept his eyes trained on the screen, not even giving the slightest indication that Marian's movements were causing parts of him to take more interest in her actions than those on the screen. But he did carefully extract his hand from hers, and when Marian turned to look at him in surprise, he merely grinned and nodded for her to pay attention to the show. She arched a surprised eyebrow at him, but returned her gaze to the screen. A moment later, Harold successfully navigated his free hand to the pocket of her skirt and began stroking the top of her thigh through the thin fabric of the pocket. He heard Marian's breath catch in her throat, but his wife made no move to halt his caress. Emboldened by her silent acquiescence, he continued his ministrations, careful to maintain subtle movements lest anyone nearby notice the movement of his hand. When Marian resumed her gentle teasing along his leg, he gave her thigh a squeeze and was rewarded with a sly smile from his daring librarian.

XXX

When the movie ended, Harold took Marian by the hand and hurriedly navigated them back to the Hotel Randolph, oblivious to the lovely evening surrounding them. Harold was eager to resume the flirtations they'd begun in the theater, as was, apparently, Marian. For Harold had no sooner closed the door before his wife threw herself in his arms and covered his lips with hers. Surprised, but nonetheless pleased by this overt display of affection, Harold eagerly returned her embrace, his hands roaming over her familiar curves while his tongue explored the contours of her mouth. Soon, he felt his wife trembling beneath his touch. He briefly toyed with the idea of divesting himself of only the clothing that was absolutely necessary to remove to make love to Marian, but quickly dismissed the thought. After all the heated flirting they'd engaged in during the movie, Harold wanted to do things properly and spend the remainder of the evening fully unclothed and in their bed, Marian straddling his hips as he watched her move above him. And when his wife was utterly spent, he'd roll her beneath him and proceed to spend the next several hours demonstrating with soft kisses and tender caresses exactly how much he loved and wanted her.

The music professor realized he wasn't the only one considering this course of action when he felt Marian's hands leave his shoulder and trail down the lapels of his coat. She continued to return his heated kisses, but Harold could feel her smile against his lips when her hands found his silver belt buckle and began to undo it. A moment later, her skillful fingers had unbuttoned his pants, and her slender hand disappeared inside the opening.

When Marian's warm hand began to blatantly caress him through the thin fabric of his BVDs, he was grateful he'd inadvertently packed the spring drawers instead of his winter ones. The lighter fabric provided little barrier to his wife's expert ministrations. Harold's eyes slid closed and his head fell backwards as she continued to work her hand up and down the front of his drawers. When a foolish smile spread across his face and he released a contented sigh, he heard Marian laugh softly.

"I take it the music professor approves," she murmured in a low voice.

Harold could only nod.

"Perhaps we should remove some of these restrictions?"

Harold's eyes shot open, but he merely gazed at his wife in amusement.

Marian returned his look with a sly smile. "I'll take that a yes, darling."

When Harold still said nothing, she gave him a saucy wink and proceeded to carefully work his pants and drawers down his hips, giggling when he hurriedly kicked off his shoes and sent them flying across the room. Marian arched an eyebrow at his impatience, but Harold simply shrugged.

"I don't want anything to hinder you, Madam Librarian." His gaze remained trained on his wife, and he watched, mesmerized, as she ran her hands back up along his bare legs as she straightened. When Marian paused, her lips mere inches from his erection, Harold felt his heart skip several beats.

The sight of his beloved wife, hair still carefully arranged in her chignon as she gazed boldly at his arousal, sent his pulse racing. Although he often saw his wife with her hair arranged in such a manner, it wasn't often that it remained so during their lovemaking. Seeing her this way reminded Harold of his first meeting with the lovely librarian, and he was suddenly inundated with several of the baser fantasies he'd indulged in when he'd first come to River City, and Marian Paroo was merely the woman of the moment to be wooed and subdued. The sight of her honey-gold curls set perfectly atop her head had immediately caught the conman's fancy when he first laid eyes on her that night as he trailed her to her home. A few days later, when Harold boldly declared his love for her at the Madison Public Library, he'd been greeted by the heady scent of lavender gently wafting from her tresses as he'd leaned over to claim a kiss that was ultimately denied.

Although Harold eventually realized his feelings for the librarian were far truer than he cared to admit, he wasn't ashamed to admit he'd indulged in a few fevered evenings as he lay in his bed at the boarding house imagining this very scene of Marian pleasing him while her hair was still arranged in its intricate chignon. The only thing missing from this fantasy come true were her spectacles. Harold vaguely wondered if she had brought them with her, but the thought quickly fled from his mind when he felt her warm mouth envelop him without preamble and caress him with familiarity and confidence. Her smooth hands pressed against his bare thighs, and he shuddered when her nails softly scored his skin as she moved back and forth at a steady pace.

Harold's breath caught in his throat, and he gave a strangled groan. "My God, Marian."

His wife looked up in genuine surprise and issued a look of mild reproach. "Harold – " she began, but he shook his head and insistently tugged her closer, his hand palming the back of her head and guiding her lips back to his erection.

"Marian, you can scold me later," he fervently promised, his voice cracking as he spoke. "But, please don't stop now. Please." Harold briefly wondered if he'd shocked his wife's sensibilities a bit too much, but when Marian gave him a knowing smile and obligingly lowered her head to his lap once more, he knew he hadn't offended her too deeply. No doubt he would later get a scolding for his questionable choice of words, but at this moment, he didn't particularly care. All that mattered was the exquisite sensation of Marian's soft, wet lips slowly enveloping him.

Fortunately, Harold's husky groans seemed to inflame the librarian, because she not only resumed caressing him with her mouth, she added her lithe hands to the equation. He thought back to the first time she'd explored this side of their passion and realized just how far they'd come since that night. Back then, his bride's movements had been hesitant and cautious. Tonight, his wife's actions demonstrated confidence and bold familiarity. Harold once again thanked his lucky stars for Marian's thorough knowledge and buried his fingers in her golden hair, thrusting in rhythm with her movements and whispering heated endearments, loving her with words as sweetly and passionately as she loved him with her silent caresses.

Eventually, Harold's tender blandishments were lost in a sharp cry as he approached his release, and he called out his wife's name over and over as he shuddered in her embrace. When his cries finally tapered off into choppy breaths, Marian rose and gave him a saucy smile.

For a moment, emotion overwhelmed Harold and he couldn't find the words to respond – a momentous occasion indeed for the silver-tongued professor – but true to form, he quickly recovered and, clasping his wife's hand, pressed several ardent kisses against her slender fingers.

"Madam Librarian, we have got to get you out of these clothes," he informed her with a shaky smile.

Letting out that deliciously sly laugh of hers, she pointed to the shirttails hanging over his waist and BVDs and pants which were bunched around his ankles. "I could say the same thing to you, Professor Hill."

Harold glanced at his own disheveled clothing and nodded. "Well, I'm already in a state of dishabille, thanks to a certain seductive librarian. But," he continued with an impish grin when Marian blushed a bright shade of pink, "I still think undressing you would prove to be much more pleasurable."

"For you or for me?" she inquired with an arched brow.

Harold gave his wife a wolfish smile. "For both of us."

"I see," she laughed. Harold moved toward her, but Marian held up a hand, halting his motion with an appraising look. "Before we do anything, I think it's best if we rescued your trousers, darling. I'd hate for you to fall and hurt yourself."

Chuckling at his unusual lack of finesse, Harold stepped out of the hopelessly wrinkled pants and BVDs and retrieved them before dutifully moving to the couch and placing them over the back of the furniture. He rolled his eyes when Marian gave him an approving smile, but when she glided toward the bathroom door, he scurried after her and laid a hand on her arm.

"Leaving so soon?"

Marian laughed and gently removed his hand. "I need to freshen up a bit, Harold."

His concern ebbed somewhat and he motioned for her to continue, but not without waggling a finger at her and sternly admonishing, "Don't even think about removing a stitch of clothing, Madam Librarian."

"And take away all of your fun?" Marian teased. "I wouldn't dream of it, Professor Hill."

XXX

When Marian emerged from the washroom fifteen minutes later, Harold saw that she hadn't exactly heeded his request. But as he watched her saunter toward him, the music professor couldn't say he was too disappointed in her decision.

The long skirt and blouse she had donned earlier that evening were now draped across her arm, as was her coat, chemise, corset and stockings. Indeed, his wife walked toward him clad only in her drawers and camisole – a sight that sent his blood racing. The librarian's lips curled in a smile and her eyes lit up with pleased amusement when they noted his obvious arousal.

But Harold said nothing, instead choosing to liberate the clothing from her arms and add it to the pile on the couch. When he turned back to his wife, he gave her an appraising look, slowly trailing his eyes from her bare feet to her drawers before finally settling on the smooth skin revealed to him by her low-necked camisole.

Reaching out a hand, Harold traced the lace trim along the top of the garment, his fingers tenderly brushing the tops of her breasts as they slid beneath the fabric of her camisole Marian's eyes slid shut when his palm closed around her breast and he began to caress her in earnest.

Although Harold could easily have spent quite some time teasing and stroking his wife through the smooth satin and lace, the librarian's whispered pleas convinced him to lower his other hand and gently tug her drawers loose until they slipped down her thighs and pooled at her feet. When the offending garment finally came free, the music professor pushed it away and lowered his head between her legs. Without preamble, his mouth opened and closed against her, his lips expertly tugging on her sensitive flesh in the ways he knew drove her wild. When his wife moaned in satisfaction, Harold smiled. There was nothing sweeter than hearing Marian passionately moan his name in a low, breathless voice. When she began to plead with him for more, he happily obliged and lowered her to the bed until she was settled beneath him, before leaning up to capture her mouth in a heated kiss she wholeheartedly returned.

They stayed that way for several minutes, mouths moving together as they silently communicated their love for one another, hands roaming along each other's bodies, with the occasional jump when a finger found a particularly ticklish spot. It was after such a moment that Marian pulled away and gave her husband a playful swat.

"Harold Hill! Stop it! You know I'm ticklish there," she reprimanded, although the effect was somewhat lessened by the desire lurking in her eyes.

Harold affected an innocent look. "Are you now, Mrs. Hill? I had no idea," he protested, but an impish grin danced at the corners of his mouth and he brought his hand back to the sensitive area on her hip.

Marian swatted at his hand. "Honestly, Harold!"

Chuckling gleefully, the playful professor captured her hand and brought it to rest against his chest. "Settle down, Madam Librarian," he admonished. "I'll stop teasing you." A thoughtful look passed across his face and he amended his statement. "That is, I'll stop teasing you that way."

Marian gazed questioningly at him, but Harold remained silent, although a hint of a seductive smile curled his lips. As he lowered his head to her breast, his wife continued to watch him, but a moment later, she gasped and her eyes slid shut in silent pleasure when Harold's tongue began to move against her bare skin in a tender caress. Releasing their intertwined fingers, he slid his hand along the curve of her breast and gently cupped it, his thumb toying with the sensitive flesh there.

Murmuring words that would have once shocked Marian, but now served only to inflame her desire, Harold trailed his lips along her curves, stopping every few moments to gently nip and tease as he continued down the familiar path. His other hand, which had been resting on his wife's knee, stroked its way up her thigh.

Harold heard Marian's breath catch when he finally cupped her softness. When his finger slipped inside her and began to gently glide in and out, he was rewarded with a throaty moan and the sight of Marian arching against his hand. Early on in their marriage, his wife had expressed embarrassment whenever she became vocal during their lovemaking, but Harold was quick to assure her that not only was it natural for her to do so – it drove him wild to hear her heated whispers and passionate cries as they explored their love for one another. It took a few months for Marian to fully lose her self-consciousness, but once she did, Harold had been delighted to discover an entirely new side of his wife – a side of which he wholeheartedly approved.

Although Harold could have spent several hours simply watching Marian writhe beneath his capable hands, he was finding it difficult to resist adding his mouth and tongue to the mix. He wanted to listen as her moans transformed into uninhibited wails and watch as passion overtook her.

Deciding he could wait no more, the music professor regretfully pulled his hand away, and smiled when the librarian gave a sigh of disappointment. Unsurprisingly, Marian lifted her head and gazed at him in confusion before opening her mouth to express her displeasure. But his wife's protests were lost in a renewed bout of moaning when Harold lowered his head and closed his lips around her, his tongue parting her wetness with practiced ease.

Marian's ecstatic cries filled the room, and Harold smiled against her skin. After two years of marriage, he knew exactly how to pleasure his dear little librarian, and it never ceased to bring him joy in doing so. Granted, it had taken a while for Marian to become comfortable in expressing her likes and dislikes, but once she had, the librarian had quickly informed him how just much she enjoyed this particular act. Harold, ever eager to ensure his wife's happiness, had happily obliged her and made a point to incorporate it into their bedroom activities as often as possible.

Tonight however, Marian seemed to be enjoying it more than she ever had before. Her hands roamed across his head and quickly made a mess of his carefully styled hair. The librarian's gentle, but insistent, tugs on his tresses spoke volumes about what she wanted from him. Harold eagerly complied. Draping her legs over his shoulders, he reached down and cupped her backside in his hands, pulling her as close to him as he could before lowering his head and closing his mouth around her wetness again, his tongue moving in long, languorous strokes, no longer teasing, but making loving to his wife in earnest.

The librarian's incoherent moans grew louder and then suddenly, Harold felt Marian's arms wrap around his neck, pressing his mouth tightly to her, as she began to shudder beneath his lips. Satisfaction coursed through him when Marian finally cried out his name and she began to convulse in pleasure, her climax rushing through her. Her hips undulated as Harold continued his ministrations, intent upon wringing every drop of satisfaction out of her. It was only when his wife pressed against his shoulders and pleaded, "No more" in shuddery breaths that he finally moved away.

As Marian lay supine beneath him, her hands meandering aimlessly along her naked body as she slowly calmed, Harold scooted off the bed and stood, gazing at the delicious tableau she presented. His wife watched him through hooded eyes, and Harold felt a surge of masculine pride when her gaze eventually settled on his arousal, an expectant smile curving her lips.

They had certainly come a long way since the first time they'd made love in Des Moines. Back then, his wife was hesitant and unsure. But now, as he climbed back into their bed and gathered her close to him, she showed no such reticence. There was no maidenly hesitation in the way her hands instantly wrapped around his erection and guided him inside her. And when Harold teased Marian with short, possessive thrusts, she arched her back to meet each one, moaning his name in a low voice as she spread her legs even wider to accommodate their lovemaking.

Harold smiled broadly and slid a warm palm behind his wife's smooth neck. Although he wanted nothing more than to bring Marian satisfaction, there was something wholly erotic about watching her writhe beneath him, panting for release as he expertly teased her with firm strokes calculated to bring her pleasure.

Capturing his wife's lips in a languid kiss, Harold slowly pulled away until he hovered just inside her. He felt Marian's hands tug against his hips, a silent but heated encouragement for him to quicken his pace. He grinned again and decided on a compromise, inching forward until he was once more buried fully within her. But Marian had no more sighed in relief than he was pulling away again. He continued this pleasurable game of give and take, enthralled by the sounds of the librarian's husky moans as she pleaded for him to continue, until he felt her small hands grasp his backside and pull him tightly to her.

Harold's pulse began to race even faster. Marian had always been able to get under his skin and scatter his self-composure with the smallest of sighs. But when she gave herself to him like this – so unabashedly and without reservation – he lost all semblance of control. Gazing down at his wife as she undulated and shifted restlessly beneath him, he once again wondered what the virtuous librarian had seen in a fly-by-night snake-oil salesman like him. He was further caught off guard when her eyes fluttered open to return his stare – it was almost as if she'd sensed him watching her – but he maintained his steady gaze, his eyes communicating what his mouth suddenly couldn't say.

It was Marian who finally said it, giving voice to every heated, desperate, ardent emotion between them, her sweet whispers and rapid breaths brushing his ears and sending delightful shivers through his body. Although Harold had meant to resume his previous tempo of slow and steady give and take, her unashamed candor was too much for him. When his wife wrapped her legs around him to further deepen their embrace, all he could do was groan and surrender. Grabbing Marian's hips, Harold began to thrust insistently, his pace quickening even more as her moans grew louder. He stared, mesmerized, as his wife's lips opened and closed around wordless exclamations, her hands were trailing along her own nakedness as she moaned in uninhibited satisfaction. His own breathing was becoming erratic, punctuated by gasps and shallow pants as his pleasure steadily began to build.

Harold had made love to his dear librarian many times, and each time, he was overwhelmed by the enormity of his desire for her. She could still make him tremble with such intense anticipation and need that he was just as hot for her as he'd been on their wedding night, when they made love for the very first time. He wondered if it would always be that way. And when Marian began to shudder beneath him once more, clutching at his arms as his name fell from her lips, he somehow knew that it would. But his thoughts quickly came rushing back to the present when Marian contracted around him as she continued to cry out in wordless pleasure. As much as he wanted to prolong the moment and savor the sensation of his wife's passionate response, her movements proved to be too much for Harold. Groaning long and low, he arched above Marian and cried out her name as release suddenly found him. Feverishly gripping her hips, the music professor abandoned himself to pleasure and shuddered in his wife's arms.

"Marian," he groaned, over and over, her fevered whispers encouraging his passion as he continued to convulse inside her. And then, when it was over and he had finally stilled, his lips were on her neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against her smooth skin. They stayed entwined for several minutes, Harold languidly making love to Marian's neck with his mouth and tongue until he felt his breathing quicken and the initial stirrings of desire beginning to build again.

Marian apparently felt the same way, because he felt her hands insistently rake through his damp curls, and it was only then Harold realized his wife was still moving beneath him. When she trailed her bare foot up along his leg and gave him an inviting look, a harsh groan of masculine satisfaction escaped him, and Harold smiled against her neck. His darling wife was still burning hot, and he'd be damned if he didn't ensure her absolute satisfaction tonight. With a renewed vigor that surprised even him, Harold eagerly rolled them over until Marian was situated atop him, her legs straddling his thighs. His wife's eyes initially widened in surprise, but when she saw his self-assured grin and felt the insistent thrust of his hips, Marian gave him a sly smile in return and situated herself until she had fully enveloped him once more.

Harold groaned as he slipped back inside her and settled his hands firmly on her hips. Entranced, he watched as Marian set a robust pace for their second round of lovemaking. He had a strong premonition they wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight, but as he caught Marian's rapt gaze and returned her seductive smile, he knew he didn't care. They could sleep tomorrow.


	2. My Eyes Adored You

Harold grinned as he recalled the heated evening that had, no doubt, been the catalyst for Marian's current condition. After returning home from Des Moines that week, they'd quickly settled back into their usual routine, but in July, after Marian could no longer ignore her subtle weight gain, occasional bouts of nausea and increased fatigue, she had visited Dr. Pyne and finally been told the wonderful news that she was expecting. Harold could scarcely believe it. After several months of secretly worrying that perhaps his "second honeymoon" plan had not proven as fruitful as he hoped, he was thrilled to learn that Marian was now carrying their child. Soon, they would be parents, and the music professor found this turn of events both thrilling and terrifying.

As the summer's scorching heat gave way to fall's more-pleasant temperatures, Harold's worry and nervousness gradually faded and now, only three months away from their child's inevitable appearance, he found himself eagerly anticipating the little one's arrival. Although he knew he was wholly unprepared for parenthood in terms of practical experience, the side of him that always loved a good challenge was beginning to become impatient to embark on this new adventure.

But as he stood up and stretched his tired muscles, Harold was immensely grateful that adventure wouldn't begin tonight. Weeks of planning the boys' next show, preparing for an addition to his family and conversing with Marian when she couldn't sleep had finally taken their toll. As much as he longed to make love to his wife, he was unusually exhausted and looking forward to a long night's rest. But as ever, he was certain he'd be right as rain in the morning. And perhaps Marian would also wake up just as refreshed, and they could engage in a little morning lovemaking, after all…

Making his way up the stairs and to the washroom, Harold glanced at their bedroom door. It was closed. He frowned for a moment until he remembered that Marian had recently taken to closing it while changing. For some absurd reason, she'd become self-conscious about her expanding waistline. Although Harold had repeatedly reassured her pregnancy had made her more alluring than ever, he knew his wife still struggled with her changing body. He made a mental note to once again remind her of her loveliness when they had retired for the evening.

With remarkable speed and less attention to detail than usual, Harold finished his nightly ablutions and made his way back to their bedroom, eager to climb into bed. However, when he rounded the corner, he was greeted with a sight that made him suddenly forget his fatigue: The door was once again open, and Marian, clad only in her camisole and drawers, was standing next to their bed, her head tilted back and honey-gold locks trailing past her shoulders. Unaware of his presence, she indulged in a leisurely stretch and released a satisfied moan, luxuriating in the bliss that came as her back released some of the tension she had been carrying recently. Watching as her breasts rose and fell with the innocent movement, Harold felt a renewed wave of desire wash over him.

Marian was beautiful. She had always been so to him, but now, with her softly-rounded belly and full breasts, she was all the more alluring. He wanted nothing more than to feel her pressed tightly against him as he moved in and out of her, whispering his desire as her moans and gasps filled their room. The notion of an undisturbed night's rest fleeing from his mind, Harold padded toward his wife and slipped his arms around her waist, chuckling when she gave a small start.

"It's only me, darling," he murmured. "I saw you standing here and was struck by the sudden urge to take you in my arms." He lowered his lips to her neck and placed gentle kisses along her skin. "I hope you don't mind."

Marian tilted her head, a silent entreaty for him to continue.

"I'll take that as a no," Harold chuckled, before parting his lips and gently nipping at his wife's collarbone. They continued that way for several moments, swaying together until Marian shifted slightly and let out a sigh that was more melancholy than pleased. Harold, ever alert to his wife's tenuous moods, paused and looked at her.

"What is it, darling?"

Marian shook her head. "It's nothing."

But Harold would have none of it.

"Marian, please. Tell me," he encouraged, trailing his hands along her body until he was caressing her breasts. When he lowered his lips to place insistent kisses against her smooth neck once again, he felt Marian relax into his embrace and press provocatively against him. A moment later, her arm curled around his neck. When her fingers sank into his hair, Harold couldn't contain the groan that escaped him. His wife was certainly a virtuous woman, but when her amorous nature surfaced, Marian Paroo Hill could become quite the seductive vixen.

"You were saying, Mrs. Hill?" he murmured.

He was rewarded with a throaty laugh as Marian pressed closer. "It doesn't matter anymore, Harold. You've managed to refute any argument I might have made." She swayed with him when his arm stole around her waist and tugged her to him. When his other hand found its way beneath the top of her drawers, she stiffened slightly, but a moment later, her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth parted on soft sighs when Harold discovered the dampness between her legs and began to indulge in a few of the more heated imaginings he'd been harboring all day.

A satisfied smile worked its way across the music professor's features when Marian let out a low, wordless moan, and he once again reflected that although his wife might be unsure of her desirability right now, he'd have to be a blind fool not to see it.

"Marian," he whispered. His voice sounded thick, and he knew she could hear the desire in it. "I want to make love to you." His hand continued to stroke her, and when he felt her backside press against him again, he moved closer, letting her feel his arousal.

The librarian rolled her hips, brushing against his erection, and arched her neck to one side – a silent appeal for him to resume his affectionate kisses. But Harold was impatient, desiring more than mere kisses. He wanted – no, needed – to feel his wife grasping him as he glided in and out her, needed to coax her breathing to a fevered pitch and, ultimately, needed to hear her unrestrained moans echo throughout the bedroom. To Harold, there was nothing more beautiful than the sight and sounds of Marian surrendering to the throes of passion. Halting his caresses, he carefully maneuvered his wife to their bed and settled her along the edge of the thick comforter.

After lowering himself to his knees, Harold made quick work of the string holding her drawers up and gently worked the garment down his wife's legs. In a matter of moments, the lacy material lay forgotten on the floor and Marian sat, silently watching him as he gazed at her. Her eyes were bright with desire, and Harold felt an absurd sense of pride lance through him when he heard the librarian's breathing quicken as he lowered his mouth to her thighs and placed gentle kisses along her smooth skin.

Marian's fingers instantly curled into his hair and she drew him closer, her breathless gasps encouraging him to do whatever it was he had in mind. Harold smiled. His wife was irresistible. He could spend an entire evening making love to her and never tire of it. In fact, he had done that shortly before they realized she was pregnant. It had been a glorious night and when they'd finally collapsed, sated and spent, they fell asleep unclothed beneath the heavy down blanket. When they awoke the next morning, their naked legs were still entwined. It had been delightfully decadent, and Harold, recalling the passionate abandon with which Marian had given herself to him, decided that whether or not he was able to make love to his wife tonight, he would ensure that she would not be left wanting.

With that thought in mind, he continued to trace his lips along her thigh and smiled when he felt Marian's hand tugging his head even more insistently to his intended destination. Eager to oblige his darling wife's request, Harold happily trailed his mouth along her silky wetness, delighting in the satisfied moans his ministrations produced.

When his tongue began to caress her in a most intimate fashion, and he began to lightly tease another sensitive area with his fingers, Harold was rewarded for his actions by the heady sound of his name uttered in low, throaty tones. He moved with his wife as her hips arched from the bed, undulating against him, her pleading moans and desperate cries spurring him onward. When she began to whisper how much she needed him, Harold lifted his head and stared at her with undisguised desire. He wanted this. He wanted her. But could they assuage their passion in a manner that was safe for her and their baby?

When Harold murmured this thought, Marian gazed at him with no trace of fear or hesitation in her eyes.

"I want you, Harold," she told him in a low voice.

Her words drove him wild, and it was all he could do to resist pulling Marian to him and burying himself inside her. But when Marian lifted her head to gauge his reaction to her heated entreaty, he instantly realized she was not in the most comfortable of positions, though she was clearly too caught up in the moment to think of interrupting their prelude. Always mindful of his wife's condition, Harold immediately leaned over her supine form and reached for a nearby pillow, propping it beneath her head.

Harold followed this up with a gentle inquiry as to Marian's comfort, just to be absolutely sure, but the librarian was in no mood to talk. He had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when her hands found the open collar of his nightshirt, and the music professor found himself being tugged downward until Marian's mouth captured his with a hungry urgency.

Taking her ardent response as his answer and being more than happy to acquiesce to her wishes, Harold eagerly returned her embrace, caught up in their kiss. A low groan escaped him when he felt Marian's hand caress him through his pajama pants, but the music professor didn't move away. It was pure bliss, and Harold, always a man to enjoy life's pleasures to their fullest, reveled in it.

As Marian continued to stroke and tease him, he was buffeted with the memory of that night in Des Moines, only months before, when she had boldly taken the lead in their lovemaking. With similar measures, too, he recalled with a delighted smile.

He heard Marian softly laugh and when he opened his eyes, he saw her watching with a gaze that was downright smug.

Burying his head in her golden curls, Harold gritted his teeth. "You don't play fair, Madam Librarian," he murmured, even as he eagerly pressed himself against her hand.

Marian's only response was a low chuckle before her hand moved upward to slide beneath the waistband of his pants. A moment later, her warm palm wrapped around him, and he knew nothing but pleasure as she began to expertly caress him. Eager to assist his wife, Harold hastily pushed his pajamas farther down his hips until they rested at his thighs.

Even in his erotic haze, Harold was surprised at his lack of finesse this evening. He'd been pleasured like this many times before coming to River City, but he'd never been so rushed as to not fully disrobe, having always considered that to be the actions of an unschooled youth or slovenly laborer. But now, here he was, pants bunched around his ankles, his voice filling the quiet room as he shamelessly encouraged his wife's ministrations. Opening his eyes, he glanced down, desperate to watch Marian's skillful caresses, but the hem of his nightshirt fell over his wife's hand, denying him this pleasure. He found himself frustrated at the latter realization. There was something wholly erotic about Marian pleasuring him, especially when she was carrying his child. Harold hadn't realized the potent element her pregnancy would bring to their trysts, but now that he was aware of it, he was eager to embrace it. Deciding he would weather the coolness of the room, Harold hastily divested himself of the nightshirt and tossed it on the nearby chair. The corner of Marian's mouth quirked in a smile, and the music professor grinned back in unrepentant glee. He had never made any apologies for his carnal appetites, and thankfully, his wife had never seen fit to scold him for them.

But his grin quickly disappeared as Marian continued her ministrations, and moments later, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, nipping gently at her skin as she coaxed pleading moans from him. Eager to reciprocate the pleasure she was so unselfishly giving him, Harold lowered his hand to resume his earlier explorations and soon, both husband and wife were moaning and writhing against each other.

However, as delightful as their prelude was, there were some nights that Harold couldn't take such long, drawn-out teasing. And tonight was one of those nights. Laying a hand over his wife's nimble fingers, he stilled her movements. When she glanced questioningly at him, he leaned up and captured her mouth in a heated kiss.

"I want _you_ , Marian," was all he said when her lips finally slipped from his. "Now."

There was no trace of the suave or teasing salesman in his tone, and her agreement was wordless; she widened her legs for him so Harold had no doubt that she wanted him, too. With a grateful sigh, he gently pulled his wife to the edge of the bed, tenderly placing his hands on her hips once he had gotten her settled into a comfortable position. Marian's gasps as he slowly entered her were sweeter than any symphony, and as her eyes slid shut, Harold watched her erotic reactions play out before him: fingers curling around the sheets and pulling them into her hands, eyes tightly shut and head thrown back, hair cascading across the pillow and leaving a trail of golden silk along the cotton material as she surrendered to bliss.

Wanting to prolong the moment, Harold paused when he was fully inside his darling wife, and savored the sensation of her welcoming warmth. He then leaned down and sank his mouth into the soft skin at the base of Marian's neck. Her sharp cry of pleasure brought a smile to his face, and he lowered his lips again, eager to indulge in a few more love bites. As he did just that, she writhed beneath him, her hands reaching down to cup his backside and pull him even closer to her as he began to move inside her with languid strokes, drawing each one out with exquisite slowness before burying himself deep within Marian once more. Over and over, he repeated the motion, watching as his dear little librarian thrust against him, seeking more. Her bosom, larger from impending childbirth, swayed with his steady movements as if beckoning him to touch. Unable to resist such invitation, Harold cupped his wife's breasts with his hands. As he caressed Marian, she arched her back and pressed herself into his palms, her body tightening around his arousal as she did so. The unexpected sensation was exquisite and Harold bit his lip in surprise, even as he instinctively increased the tempo of his thrusts, moving faster and deeper, intent on increasing Marian's pleasure.

They moved back and forth, Marian rising with each thrust, until Harold trailed his hands along her body and wrapped them around her hips, anchoring his wife firmly to their bed as he continued to make love to her. At that, Marian began to writhe in earnest. Raising her hands to his arms, she sank her fingers into his flesh and began to whisper his name in ardent pleas.

"Harold," she gasped, twisting beneath him. "Harold… please…" Harold felt his heart hammering wildly as his wife continued to moan his name in a loud, throaty voice. Then suddenly, Marian tightened around him and began to shudder, her fingers frantically gripping his arms as she cried out with unabashed abandon. As ever, he meant for this to be merely her first climax, but the sensation of Marian contracting around him proved to be too much for the music professor to endure. Harold's eyes closed and found himself abruptly joining his wife in her wordless cries, his body stiffening and then brimming with the most wonderful sense of satisfaction as he reached release right along with her. When their ecstatic cries finally tapered off into one long wordless moan followed by several lingering, shuddery breaths, Harold finally managed to open his eyes to gaze at her again.

He was met by the welcoming sight of his beloved watching him, her wide, hazel eyes still clouded with desire. He knew she must have seen the same passion reflected in his, because the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, and she gave him a delightfully naughty look.

"Why, Professor Hill!"

Harold grinned at this playful exclamation before leaning down to brush Marian's lips with his.

"Madam Librarian," he returned, his voice laced with a surprisingly sated sense of contentment. He felt an absurd thrill race through him as he observed Marian's tousled curls and flushed cheeks. She was beautiful, and she was carrying his child. He moved away until his mouth hovered over her rounded belly and placed his palms against her warm skin.

"Beautiful," he whispered, bestowing several gentle kisses along her curved stomach. He lifted his gaze to meet his wife's and was rewarded by the sight of unshed tears glistening in Marian's eyes.

"Say now," Harold softly admonished, "there's no cause for tears, my lovely little librarian." He placed a palm against her cheek and tenderly caressed the wetness away. "Let me show you?" he whispered.

When Marian nodded her permission, Harold stretched out alongside his wife and gently positioned her to lie against him, her back flush against his chest. He heard her exhale softly when he fitted his thigh between her legs, bringing her backside into contact with his still-sensitive nether regions, and was pleased to note that this time, there was no melancholy note in that sigh.

"I agree," he murmured into her hair and brought his hand to rest against her swollen belly as he slowly moved against her, delighting in the sensation of her skin rubbing against his. "You feel wonderful, too."

Marian gave a laugh that was pleased but also slightly skeptical. Grinning, Harold pulled his wife even closer and lowered his mouth to her neck. "It's true, darling. I could fall asleep with you in my arms like this," he confessed between soft kisses.

"It is tempting," she murmured as she pressed closer to him in return.

"I could always retrieve an extra blanket," Harold suggested hopefully. The night air was a touch cool, and he didn't want his wife to suffer simply because of his desires.

Marian paused, considering his words for a long moment before tilting her head to look at him. But when she did, a mischievous smile graced her features.

"Bring two …"


End file.
